


An Accidental Constellation

by Clevinger



Category: Missing Stars (Visual Novel)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Explicit Language, Falling In Love, Implied Sexual Content, Karaoke, M/Other, Mental Health Issues, More tags to be added as story progresses, Nonbinary Character, Other, Past Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Rating May Change, School Dances, this is - dare I say it - franfiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-30
Updated: 2021-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-16 17:46:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29086320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Clevinger/pseuds/Clevinger
Summary: Drawn in by Fran's coy charm and genuine friendship, Erik asks them to be his date to St. Dymphna's Gala. As their relationship deepens, the two are forced to confront their past troubles and emotional baggage. To make things work between them, Erik won't just need to be a shoulder for Fran to lean on - he'll need to understand what kind of person he is and what love means to him.(A fan route for Fran Dragovic, a side character in the visual novel Missing Stars.)
Relationships: Erik Wilhelm/Fran Dragovic
Kudos: 3





	1. Insomnia/3:51 AM

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Missing Stars is a visual novel about mental disorders and the people they affect. It could be compared to Katawa Shoujo, albeit set in Europe and with more of a Western art style than a Japanese one. It tells a compelling story, and although only its first act has released, it has definitely captured my attention. I wanted to write a story set in its world, particularly focused on the character Fran Dragovic. They quickly became my favorite part of its cast in my playthroughs of its routes, and I was a little bummed out to hear that they didn't have a route of their own. 
> 
> So, this will be my attempt at making a route where they and Erik get together. I tried to emulate the choices made in the VN by showing dialogue options at certain points and indicating which one Erik went with. Overall, though, the plot will be linear. More characters from the VN will appear as the story progresses.
> 
> The title comes from a lyric in Anathallo's song entitled "Noni's Field." The band was criminally underrated and taken before its time, so I wanted to pay tribute to their captivating music.
> 
> I hope you all enjoy the fanfic - and, if you get the chance, check out Missing Stars Act One on the game's website. It's a thoughtful, well-researched VN that is worth playing!

Midnight in Vienna was a stargazer’s dream. Even with the city’s night pollution, the cosmos was laid bare for anyone to see. Constellations glittered over the sleeping inhabitants, leading down paths once traveled by explorers from every era. On a clear day, the night sky was a tranquil spectacle that wondrously displayed itself for a mostly unconscious audience.

That audience didn’t include me. I would have preferred to be asleep, but I was spending another night with an insufferable roommate named insomnia. No matter how heavy my eyelids became or how much my mind wandered, slumber refused to take me. I was stuck lying awake in my bed, watching the clock tick by and growing increasingly frustrated with my situation.

Nights like these made me sorely tempted to skip my meds, if even for a day. I might get the chance to have a good night’s sleep…but, knowing my luck, it’d just backfire. I could imagine how my parents would react: they’d get that “not angry, just concerned” look and say something like, “Erik Wilhelm! You know better than to miss a dose! Don’t you realize how much you could hurt yourself by doing that?”

Sighing loudly, I slammed one of my pillows over my face. The rational side of me was correct – compared to a total relapse, insomnia was a necessary evil that was worth putting up with. It wasn’t a constant threat to my health, either, so it wasn’t like every night was a sleepless one.

Still, I couldn’t just lay around until the sun rose. Even if it left me physically exhausted, I felt better occupying my time than holding onto the thin hope that I would get some rest. My homework for my upcoming classes had been taken care of, in no small part thanks to Jeanne’s tutoring.

I could try going for a walk. The weather seemed pleasant enough, and St. Dymphna's campus was spacious and forested enough to make for some enjoyable sightseeing. Maybe Katja or Nell would be out and about again; I wouldn’t be opposed to shooting the breeze with someone.

Alright, I had made up my mind. Rolling out of my sheets, I threw on my red-and-black St. Dymph’s uniform and slipped out of my room. Every step I took was quiet and cautious. There wasn’t a curfew in place, but I didn’t want to wake anyone or draw attention to these nightly ventures I would reluctantly go on.

Crisp fall air greeted me once I stepped onto the paved paths outside my dorm. There was a slight chill, but the uniform I wore over my pajamas helped cut down on the cold. It was still early in the season, so the greenery surrounding the school grounds was alive and well. Only the occasional yellow or red leaf gave any hint to the coming changes that nature would bring.

Without any particular route in mind, I took the path to the left and followed it away from my dorm, guided by the dull lights of the campus’s lamp posts.

As expected, the school grounds were deserted. I wouldn’t doubt that other students had sleeping issues like mine, but I didn’t expect many to roam around in the dead of night. There must’ve still been some adventurous part of me left after all.

Well, not everyone would call wandering around the safe campus of a private school “adventurous,” but I would take whatever mild excitement I could get. My appetite for conquering the wilderness and going off the beaten path had vanished after…well…

_The cold mountain winds battering Gustav and me, the roaring of our fire, the satisfying crunch left whenever our boots met the frozen terrain…_

Stop. No. Don’t go there. Stay in the here and now.

Desperate to avoid falling back into unpleasant memories, I forced myself to focus on the world around me. My walk had led me to the chapel, past the nature path and woods I had stumbled through for a poorly thought-out newspaper article. This far from the dorms and academic buildings, only the dim lights above the chapel’s stairs shone. From a distance, I could make out some of the stained-glass windows and bushes lining its sides.

I caught myself as I noticed a red smudge underneath the chapel’s lights. Squinting, I saw another person in a St. Dymph’s uniform sitting on the stairs, idly tapping away at their phone and occasionally looking up at the stars. The closer I got, the more of them I recognized: flowing black hair, a slender figure, and androgynous features that treaded a fine line between “handsome” and “pretty.”

“Fran?” I cautiously called out to the figure.

For a moment, Fran’s eyes went wide at their name being called. They got onto their feet and, noticing me, appeared to relax a little more. That sly grin they frequently wore returned to their lips. Adjusting their tie, they ambled toward me with their usual air of charm and cockiness.

“What’s got you out so late, darling?” they teasingly asked. “Gone werewolf hunting again?”

“I…” Face flushed, I struggled to come up with a good answer for them. That night hadn’t been my finest moment, even if it had helped me get to know Lena better. “…I couldn’t sleep. I thought it’d do me some good to escape my room for a bit.”

Their features softened a bit. “That’s nothing to be ashamed of, Erik. It happens to the best of us.”

“Glad I’m not the only one having that problem.”

**> ”I’m guessing that includes you?”**

Almost immediately, Fran regained their cheeky smile. “I said ‘the best of us,’ didn’t I? Who else would I be talking about?”

I should have expected that sort of remark from them. Still, it was nice to see a friendly face. As relaxing as the night was, it did get tiring to face it alone. Having some company might lift my spirits a little more.

“Do you mind if I join you?” I asked. “If you’d rather not, don’t worry. You were here first.”

Fran seemed a little surprised at my sheepishness. “Why would I mind? Stay as long as you want. Stargazing’s not a one-person job.”

I could say whatever I wanted about their eccentricities, but Fran had been nothing but kind since I had met them. Well, kind in their own impish way. None of their jabs at my expense were ever serious or personal. It came across as testing the waters of our friendship than anything else.

Shored by their reassurance, I stepped further into the reach of the chapel’s lights. Twigs and sticks gave way under my shoes, cracking and crunching among the nighttime chirping of insects. My foot caught on a particularly large branch, and I stumbled forward.

“Erik, look out for-”

Fran had gotten up to catch me just as I had flailed around trying to right myself before falling. My elbow struck something hard, and I hit the pavement. It wasn’t a hard fall – _not this time_ , a thought briefly rattled in my skull – but my head and hands still ached from the concrete brush burns. The only comfort was that I didn’t feel any wetness trailing down my face or arms; I would probably just get a bruise or two out of the accident.

I looked up and found Fran cradling a fresh bruise on their cheek. Realizing what I had hit my elbow against, I quickly paled and rushed to their side.

“Dammit, dammit, I’m _so_ sorry…”

Fran let their arm drop and, to my surprise, actually laughed at me. I could only stare back, guilty at hurting them and baffled at them finding humor in it.

Stifling their fit of giggles, Fran said, “Oh, don’t apologize! You didn’t mean it. Besides, I’ve been hit harder than this before.” They clapped me on the shoulder and added, “It’s water under the bridge.”

”Well, okay. Glad you aren’t mad about it.”

**> “Think we should get inside and patch ourselves up?”**

“You’ve ‘been hit harder than that?’ What, are you into boxing?”

Fran’s eyebrows lifted at my question. “And waste a perfectly good night out? These little scrapes will go away on their own in a day or two. No need to draw attention to them with bandages and all that jazz.”

I wasn’t sure if they would heal that quickly, but I didn’t know enough to second-guess them. Besides, Fran had a point. I had been trying to escape the dull confines of my dorm room – it didn’t feel right to retreat in there so soon.

“C’mon,” they insisted, patting a spot on the stairs next to them. “Take a load off. The night’s still young, and the sky’s putting on a good show for us.”

Sitting down, I became aware of how comfortable it was beside Fran. They practically emanated warmth, both physically and empathetically. It was hard to describe, but I felt _safe_ around them. They didn’t treat me like I would break under the slightest bit of pressure. They knew when to lay off the gentle teasing and when to lend a shoulder to lean on. Everything they did emphasized that our friendship was built on mutual support, not pity.

I hadn’t realized how badly I had needed that – for someone to not hold back around me. Sharing a curious stare with Fran, I reached over and gently squeezed their hand.

“Thanks for this.”

Slipping out from under my reach, Fran jokingly prodded my chest and said, “No need to thank me. Being kind and courteous is just in my nature.”

“Don’t forget about how humble you are.”

“Ah! If only I had a little humility, then I’d be perfect.”

It didn’t take long for both of us to start cracking up. Maybe I was just slap-happy from the lack of sleep, but I joined Fran in laughing like they had told the most gut-busting joke imaginable. We were wiping away tears in our eyes by the time we had calmed down.

Above us, the stars twinkled in perfect harmony. We both watched the cosmic display, captivated by the shimmering patterns and distant specks of light. It was as if the solar system had unfurled itself before us for our sole enjoyment.

Together, we pointed out the constellations we recognized and guessed at the unfamiliar ones. On a few occasions, we mistook passing planes for otherworldly sights. There was no plan or logic behind our approach. We were just two sleep-deprived friends playing at being astronomers and loving every minute of it.

It wasn’t how I had expected my night to go, but I was fine with the way it had turned out. Some small part of me started to hope that maybe – just _maybe_ – things would work out for me at St. Dymph’s. At least I would be spending my time here in good company.


	2. Carried Away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik gets roped into doing karaoke by Natalya, Sofiya, and Fran. Drinking, singing, and asking oneself some tough questions ensue.

My lunch break the next day was a quiet, subdued affair. Having loaded up on coffee after the sun rose, I managed to push through my morning classes without passing out on my desk. I considered it a victory over insomnia, as shallow as it was. I’d take whatever wins I could get when it came to my _issues_.

I had considered splurging on a couple slices of pizza and fries, but the caffeine overdose had left me a little more anxious than usual. Something as simple as grabbing a bite to eat became a complicated choice between flavor and healthiness. I found myself asking the question “What would Ela do?” and cursed my luck at befriending the school’s _wunderkind_ so soon.

As a compromise, I grabbed a garden salad and doled out a hearty amount of ranch dressing and chicken on it. Eat your heart out, Ela Sahin – even I can make responsible choices when plagued with guilt and self-doubt!

I was probably making the situation out to be a bigger deal than it actually was. Sitting by myself at one of the dining hall’s circular tables, I couldn’t help but dwell on the impact some of my friends were having on me. Lena’s forcefulness had made me learn to stand up for myself, Ela’s good nature had helped me lighten my outlook on St. Dymph’s, and Jeanne’s serious handling of classwork had improved my understanding of trickier academic topics. Some of their better habits were rubbing off on me, and I didn’t know what to make of it.

I knew I would come out of St. Dymph’s a different person, especially considering the goal of the school, but I hadn’t considered the small ways it would affect me. In all honesty…I didn’t think that I minded it. Sure, I wanted to recover from the greater-scope problems I was dealing with, but I wasn’t opposed to picking up some better behaviors along the way. And, if I were to make some friends along the way, who was I to complain?

Somewhere in the middle of my lunch-turned-philosophical-musings, a pair of hands covered my eyes. The smell of orange-scented perfume and lemon shampoo rushed into my nose.

“Guess who?” asked the girl acting as my blindfold.

Heavy Russian accent, distinct scents, and a knack for games left me with only a few suspects. I decided to play along with my mystery guest.

“I know it’s you, Natalya.”

“Katja? What are you doing here?”

**> “You can’t fool me, Irene!”**

“ _Nyet!_ ”

At once, my eyes were uncovered. Natalya ran around to face me, a satisfied grin plastered on her face. “No, silly, I am Natalya! That was poor guess!”

“He is joking, Nat. He knew it was you.”

The huskier, more serious voice belonged to Natalya’s older sister Sofiya. The two girls circled around me to grab side-by-side seats at the table. Natalya wore a cute pout as she glared at Sofiya.

“Not true! Eric would not lie to me! Is that right, Fran?”

I turned and found, to my surprise, that my stargazing companion had accompanied the sisters to my table. They offered me a quick wave before sitting down, positioned in a spot where they could talk to me and the Volkova sisters without issue.

Though Fran appeared in good spirits, there were some signs of their insomnia hitting home. Hints of dark circles had formed under their eyes. Every so often, they would subtly let out a yawn hidden behind a sleeve or elbow. They were apparently coping with it the same way I had – with plenty of caffeine. A large, steaming cup of coffee stood beside their packed lunch tray.

“Oh, yeah. Eric’s a habitual liar.” Mischievously grinning, they added, “That’s why he got sent here, you know? He can’t stop making things up, even when he wants to tell the truth! It’s like that movie _Liar Liar_ , only reversed.”

I didn’t have the energy for a witty rebuttal. “That’s a real cute joke, Fran.”

“Anytime, anywhere!” they gleefully shot back.

At the mere mention of the word “joke,” Natalya’s hand shot up. Her shoulders bounced up and down as she enthusiastically tried to get our attention. “I have good joke! Want to hear it?”

I doubted that she would take “no” for an answer. Sofiya groaned slightly at her sister’s antics, but nodded along with the rest of us. Encouraged by our apparent support, Natalya clapped her hands together and shared her latest bit of comedy with us.

“Why could no child get into movie about pirates?”

Silence followed. Naturally, she took this as her cue to give us the punchline.

“Because it was rated… _argh!_ ”

Natalya immediately broke into a laughing fit, oblivious to Sofiya’s pained expression and Fran’s barely hidden cringe. Admittedly, I got a few chuckles out of the joke, even if I had heard it before. Her energetic delivery helped me laugh along with her cheesy puns.

When the giggling died down, Fran cleared their throat. “…Right. Nice work, Natalya. You’ll be headlining St. D’s comedy hour in no time.”

“I sure hope so! I have many more jokes written down!”

“In any case,” Fran continued, “there’s a reason we decided to pop in on your lunch break, Erik. Outside of the obvious one, that is.”

“Aww, that’s nice of you all to keep me company.”

“I appreciate it, but I’m fine on my own.”

**> “What reason? To blind me with your drop-dead gorgeous looks?”**

There was only a glimmer, a mere moment where Fran’s cockiness faltered, but it was still noticeable. For a scant few seconds, their throat bobbed, and an unmistakable _blush_ overtook their face. Sofiya raised an eyebrow, and Natalya let out a curious “oooh” at the change.

Hah, guess I’m not the only one who could get flustered by words. Score one for Erik, and score…many more points for Fran. I would catch up eventually.

Fran stumbled over a response, but quickly recovered and got back into their confident persona. Adjusting their tie, they threw a charming smirk my way and said, “That’s a given, darling. You should know that by now!”

“What Fran is trying to say is that we want you to join us tonight,” Sofiya impatiently told me. “A pub in town is hosting a karaoke night. We would love to have you along for it.”

Karaoke? My gut instinct was to shy away from the idea. I wasn’t the best singer, and belting out some tone-deaf lyrics in front of a crowd didn’t fill me with excitement. My night wasn’t booked up with things to do, but I tried to squirm out of the commitment regardless.

“I don’t know…I should keep brushing up on my French, and…”

Natalya hit me with her sweetest, sappiest puppy-dog stare possible. For an added dollop of guilt, she made her lower lip quiver slightly.

“Please, Erik? We don’t want you to be lonely! You would have great time with us!”

My stomach twisted up in knots as I vainly tried to resist the offer. I barely held my ground up until Sofiya put on a subtle pout of her own. The two-pronged guilting from the Volkova sisters proved to be too much for me to say “no” to.

Placatingly, I dropped my head and said, “Okay, okay, I’ll do it.”

Natalya pumped her fist in a show of victory, and Sofiya traded in her cute pout for a smile. Even Fran looked happy – and a bit relieved – to have me along for the trip.

“Meet us at seven tonight in the parking lot,” Sofiya instructed me. “I will drive us into town. It should not take long to get there.”

“Remember to dress sharp,” Fran added. “You’ll be in front of a crowd, after all!”

What had I gotten myself into? Was I just going to humiliate myself on the microphone for their amusement? Crowds weren’t an issue for me, but I wasn’t gung-ho about being an embarrassment. They wouldn’t drag me to this karaoke thing to laugh at me, would they?

…No, no. They wouldn’t do that. All of them were my friends, and they didn’t have a vicious bone in their bodies. I trusted the three of them not to drag me into anything shady. Besides, our last meetup had been pretty fun. I was just nervous about doing something I had little experience with. Maybe I would feel better once I got on stage and sang my part.

That brief burst of panic gradually deserted me. Calmed by their continued chatter and generally happy attitudes, I pushed my fears aside and stopped falling down a hole of “what-ifs.” It was too easy to get lost in my own thoughts and worries these days. Sometimes, I needed to ground myself in reality to not let them overwhelm me.

The four of us passed the time chatting about our past experiences singing and the upcoming school gala. Before we knew it, the bell rang to signal the end of the period. We all put away our empty lunch trays and said our farewells, promising to meet again later tonight.

I had gotten roped into another grand scheme of the Volkova sisters, but I didn’t mind it. There were far worse ways to spend a weeknight than partying it up with friends.

* * *

Sofiya pulled into the parking lot for a pub called the “Autumn Blaze.” It had an old and rustic charm with its faded brick and redwood exterior. Though it wasn’t too large, it appeared packed to the gills tonight. We had trouble finding an empty space to park in, spending several minutes searching until we found a van pulling out of its spot.

Once the car was situated, Natalya practically launched herself out of her seat and into the night air. She raised her arms toward the pub, saying, “Here it is, friends! Best karaoke place in town!”

“You mean the only one in town,” Sofiya muttered as she checked her car over for dents or bumps. Apparently satisfied, she left it behind and followed after her sister. Fran and I joined them on opposite sides.

“Exactly!” Natalya happily responded. “So it is best one!”

I couldn’t argue with that logic. Fran seemed to agree, half-seriously nodding as if Natalya had dropped some sage advice on us.

Inside, the place looked fairly typical for a local pub: plenty of cushioned booths, a lengthy bar dotted with occupied stools, and wooden floors and walls as far as the eye could see. The smell of freshly poured beer and stronger liquors wafted in the distance. The tables and booths were on a slightly lower platform compared to the bar, and a section of the pub hosted a stage and karaoke machine. While most of the restaurant was dim, several spotlights shone brightly on the area where we would be singing.

But hey, no pressure. I’d imagine that I would be too blinded by the overhead lights to even see the audience!

Grabbing a booth close to the stage, the four of us placed down drink orders – a sugary mixed drink for Natalya, bourbon for Sofiya, whiskey for Fran, and a glass of ginger ale for myself. I could’ve gone all-out and ordered something stronger, but liquor and psychiatric medications didn’t mix well.

By the time our drinks arrived, some of the patrons had begun stopping by a table near the karaoke setup, writing on small notecards and placing them in a bin. Fran, Natalya, and Sofiya got up and headed to the back of line. Since I had zero experience with this, I followed their lead.

“Are we signing up for something?” I quietly asked Fran.

“It’s just for karaoke. You write down your name and whatever you’re going to sing. The hosts will call you when your turn arrives.” Glancing up and down at me, Fran flashed a satisfied smirk. “Looks like you took my advice. Gotta say, you’re _owning_ that sweatervest-and-khakis combo! When you dress sharp, you don’t cut any corners.”

“You were the one who told me to do it!” When I took some cursory glances around, it became clear that I was one of the few people dressed up for the occasion. Fran, the Volkova sisters, and most other patrons had on casual clothes like sweaters, jeans, and zip-up jackets. “Why’d you suggest it if no one else was going to do it, anyway?”

“Mmm…”

Fran leaned in so close to my face that I could almost feel the heat coming off them. Of course, it could have just been me – my cheeks felt warm, and I could tell that Fran had gotten me blushing.

“…For eye candy, I suppose. And you _are_ quite the treat tonight.”

They offered me another wink before jotting down their name and song for karaoke. I could barely focus when my turn came up – all I did was jot down a popular song without giving it much thought. I returned to our table in a daze, still processing Fran’s latest comments.

Fran liked to flirt and mess with people. I was keenly aware of this, yet their comments still got under my skin. They never affected me in a bad way, but I couldn’t tell how seriously I should take them. Was there any weight to this latest string of pick-up lines? Were they just getting payback for my attempt to make them blush and stumble over their words at lunch?

I liked Fran, and they liked me, but it was hard to get a read on them. What did I mean to Fran? I was still trying to figure out what they were to me, aside from the obvious answer of “a good friend.”

“Erik?” Natalya asked between sips of her mixed drink. “You look deep in thought. Is anything bothering you?”

My three companions all had their eyes in me, concerned or confused by my intense silence. Screw it, I could dwell on those questions another time. I had been invited out here to have fun, and I didn’t want to drag them down by making them worry.

Throwing on a smile, I said, “It’s nothing. I was just dwelling on something.”

“Do you need any advice on it?” Sofiya offered.

“Actually, that might help.”

**> “Thanks, but I’ll figure it out on my own.”**

“Exactly, tonight’s not a night for worrying!” Fran grinned. “It’s about singing and getting sloshed with your best friends!”

To my surprise, Sofiya chuckled at their comment. “I’ll drink to that.”

“Here, here!” Natalya added.

The four of us clinked our glasses together and slurped down more booze…or, in my case, ginger ale. Did that make me the designated driver for when this all ended? I didn’t know how much liquor in one’s system was too much, but Sofiya had already started her second glass of bourbon. Natalya and Fran were already looking flushed. I just hoped that I wouldn’t have to carry them back to Sofiya’s car.

When karaoke officially started, it took some time for us to be called up. I watched the strangers around us walk on stage one after another, each belting out their own renditions of radio hits. None did particularly great jobs, but everyone else cheered them on regardless. It eased my own nervousness just a bit, though it still lingered in the pit of my stomach.

Natalya was the first to go up. Cheerfully skipping up to the microphone, she sang a slightly out-of-tune cover of a recent pop song. Her English was a little broken, but her energy and enthusiasm for the occasion made up for it. I didn’t have to force myself to clap for her by the time her song ended.

Sofiya took things in a different direction than her sister. When she got on stage, she covered a dramatic rock ballad with plenty of emotion and seductive power. She didn’t limit herself to the stage, as she took the mic with her and kept singing up and down the lines of booths, accompanied by fist pumps and held notes.

I had to admit, she had some serious vocal talent. It made me wonder if she’d fit alongside Katja at the school choir.

Before long, my name appeared on the screen showing who would sing next. Fran gave me a playful shove out of the booth and toward the stage. Still a good bit anxious, I nervously ambled my way behind the microphone and under the spotlights.

I dutifully sang along with the lyrics that appeared on my personal, smaller screen. It was…well, I wasn’t about to get any record deals for my “golden voice.” I fumbled here and there with the pop song’s higher-pitched lines, and my breath hitched at a couple parts that threw me off.

My performance was nothing to brag about, but it still received an ovation from my audience. A few people were more overzealous than others. I didn’t want to name any names, but a certain Russian girl shouted, “ _Woo! Way to go, Erik!_ ” above the clapping, and another semi-drunk St. Dymph’s student yelled out, “ _That’s how you do it!_ ”

All that praise felt…nice, actually. Blushing under the intense show of approval, I stepped off-stage and wandered back toward our booth.

Fran rose from their seat and walked my way. As they passed me by, they said, “Time to put these pipes to work. You’re gonna love this.”

Given how they operated, I figured that their performance would either blow me away or be an ear-grating disaster. I wouldn’t have been shocked if they had found a way to achieve both outcomes at once.

Sitting back down, I was immediately greeted with compliments from Natalya and Sofiya.

“That was your first time, yes?” Natalya loudly asked. “You did well!”

Sofiya nodded and less-noisily added, “I enjoyed your performance, Erik. It isn’t so uncomfortable once you start singing.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” I agreed. “Everything just…came into place when I got into the song.”

Strange as it was, singing in front of a crowd was satisfying. I had faced down my nervousness and overcome it. My fears didn’t have as tight of a grip on me as I had thought. I didn’t mind the idea of coming back to do this another time.

A few taps on the microphone got our collective attention. Fran had gotten on stage, half-swaying and clearly tipsy from the amount of alcohol they had downed. Their cheeks had gained a rosy red tint, which honestly looked nice on them. It brought out the color in their face and really complimented…

…All right, that was a weird train of thought to take. Back to reality. Fran grabbed the mic from its stand and, with a dramatic flair, leaned back and held it over himself.

“This one goes out to my drinking buddies who tagged along for the show – you’re breathtaking, all of you! This is a little number called ‘I Believe in a Thing Called Love.’ You’re gonna love it.”

Fran sang along to a British rock ballad, mimicking the lead singer’s voice well despite their Slavic undertones. To my surprise, they even hit the falsetto sections near-perfectly. Either Fran had been practicing this one for a while – which wasn’t entirely out of the question – or Sofiya wasn’t the only one here blessed with solid vocal cords.

I couldn’t help but join in the cheering when Fran finished the last note. They were damn good at karaoke and deserved to show that off.

The more I thought about it, the more I realized that there was so much I didn’t know about them. If they had a knack for karaoke, then what else could they love doing? Was the school newspaper just a resume booster, or did they actually want to help with it? What had brought them to St. Dymph’s, anyway?

I wanted to know more, but not because Fran was some mystery to unravel. Finding the answers meant getting closer to them, and I guess…that was what I was really after.

I wasn’t sure what that said about me, but I didn’t intend to overthink the situation. For the rest of the evening, I planned on listening to random people sing their hearts out while my friends got hammered. I couldn’t think of a better way to spend a weeknight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter will feature Ela & Erik's picnic, as well as Erik's choice of a date for the Gala. I wonder who he'll choose?


	3. ,8,1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik makes a choice about the upcoming Gala and struggles to let his feelings be known to Fran.

After a lively night of singing and partying with friends, I had planned on sleeping until noon at the earliest. By then, I would’ve gotten enough rest to face the day along with my few scheduled classes. Plus, it would have lined up nicely with the dining hall just opening. Vending machine sandwiches were decent, but nothing beat a fresh piping-hot meal to kick off some learning.

That would’ve been how I had handled the day…had I turned off my phone before nodding off. Instead, I had been awoken by a text from Ela asking if I had been up and available. One thing had led to another, and I had ended up working with her to set up a picnic by St. Dymphna’s pond.

It had turned out to be the perfect day for a picnic lunch. Sunny skies, moderate temperatures, and a gentle breeze made for a comfortable time outside. Other students had apparently gotten the same idea as Ela, judging by the other couples and groups hanging around on blankets and lawn chairs.

True, I hadn’t expected to be chowing down on Turkish cuisine while the school’s tour guide and potential valedictorian updated me on the Gala situation, but I wasn’t complaining. I was quickly learning that serendipity was the spice of life around St. Dymph’s. Getting roped into activities was how I had met most of my friends so far. As reluctant as I could get, I found it hard to turn down opportunities to spend time with people I liked.

Between sips of _gazoz_ , Ela rattled off details about the Gala; specifically, how she was helping with preparations and how more volunteers were needed. They were a little short-staffed and needed as much assistance as possible to create and set up decorations for the event.

“It could also be a good chance for you to ask someone out to the Gala,” Ela slyly noted. “It _is_ a pretty romantic night, after all. The dancing, choir singing, and fine food all add up to a nice date. Wouldn’t you say so?”

I tried to hide my faint blush behind my glass. “I guess,” I quietly said back.

Of course Ela would see work as a chance to spark some romance. Not that I held it against her, but…man, she fit the bill of a workaholic. I wondered what she did with her free time – if she had any, that was.

“Got anyone particular in mind?” she asked, giving me a playful nudge with her elbow. “I could offer a few pointers on how to ask them out, since I’ve been here longer.”

Well…enjoying the Gala with a date sounded better than going it alone. It could be fun to bring someone along. Dinner, dancing, and a choir performance would be fun even if it was spent between friends. Luckily, I had more than a few options to consider.

Do you think Katja would like to go with me?

I bet I could get Natalya to help with the preparations.

**> I’m thinking about asking Fran to be my date. Will that work?**

Jeanne’s real helpful; she and Isolda might want to pitch in.

I’m going to try my luck with Irene.

No particular reason, but are you free on the Gala night?

I know Lena can be abrasive, but I’d like to work with her.

Maybe Annaliese would be willing to help out?

“ _Hmm?_ ” Ela’s cordial expression morphed into one of shock. “I heard you right, didn’t I? You want to take _Fran_ to the Gala?”

I might have been jumping to conclusions, but I got the feeling that Ela hadn’t been expecting that answer from me.

“What, do you not approve?” I cautiously asked, careful not to step over any cultural boundaries.

“It’s not that – come on, Erik, you know I would never hold that sort of thing against anyone – I had just assumed you would want to ask someone like Katja or Natalya. You didn’t strike me as the type to swing that way.”

Admittedly, I hadn’t thought that way, either. It seemed like I was learning more about myself every day at St. Dymph’s.

“I’m…not sure if I do. I’m trying to figure all of this out. Don’t get me wrong, the girls I’ve met have been wonderful people! I just…Fran’s drawn me in like nobody else has. Sure, they’re cocky and full of themselves, but there’s more to them than their attitude. They’re kind, and understanding, and…I feel _safe_ around them. I think they really care about me and our friendship under all showmanship.”

I hesitated to continue talking, but Ela gestured for me to keep going. “I’d love to enjoy a night out and share a dance with them. I don’t know what that makes me, but I’m not sure if I care. I’m not big on labels.”

Slowly, Ela set aside her can of _gazoz_. She stared off into the distance beyond the lake, into the dense forests that surrounded St. Dymph’s.

“I think you and Fran could work well together,” she concluded after a while. “Just…please know what you’re getting into. I helped them get used to St. Dymph’s when they first moved here. Believe me when I say they’ve been through a lot.”

Ela was acting awfully cagey about Fran’s past. Being “through a lot” basically came with the territory of attending the school, so it didn’t tell me much about them. I didn’t like to pry, but part me of wanted to know more about what had happened before they had come to St. Dymph’s.

**> ”What do you mean, ‘they’ve been through a lot?’”**

Are they doing better now than when you met them?

She shook her head. “It isn’t my place to be spreading that sort of info around. If Fran is comfortable with it, they’ll tell you.”

That got me nowhere. Still, I couldn’t blame Ela for keeping quiet about it. Everyone at the school had some emotional baggage they were still dealing with, myself included. Things we didn’t like to bring up or even think about, or else we would risk getting dragged into a pit of our own spiraling thoughts.

Things like climbing, or scaling mountains, or snow-covered cliffsides…

_The view from the Alps had been gorgeous that morning. I had suggested to Gustav that we start the next leg of the climb early, or else we might miss a breathtaking sunrise._

No! That didn’t matter anymore! It’s in the past, and I can’t change it, so I can’t dwell on it!

The feather-light touch of a hand on my shoulder made me fall back in shock. I found myself half-sprawled on the picnic blanket, my heart thumping hard enough to nearly burst through my chest. Ela watched me nervously, her arm frozen in the space between us.

“I’m so sorry,” she quietly said. “I don’t know what I said, but I didn’t mean to set off-”

“-You didn’t do anything wrong,” I quickly said back. “I just…followed a bad train of thought. That’s all.”

I needed to clear my thoughts. As much as I had been enjoying the picnic with Ela, I couldn’t bring myself to stick around any longer. Sitting around with plenty of room for spiraling, negative thoughts was just asking for disaster to strike again.

I thought about going for a run, one of the hobbies I had picked up since my recovery, or finding some more classwork to take care of. Lacking the motivation needed to go down either avenue, I decided to track down Fran and pop the question before I lost my nerve.

Apologetically, I told Ela, “I need some air. I think I might talk to Fran about the Gala, too. I hope you understand.”

She shook her head. “It’s no trouble. Everybody reacts to those sorts of episodes differently.” Gathering up some of the food into her basket, she added, “I hope you feel better soon, and please call me if you start feeling worse, okay? No matter what you think about yourself, you _aren’t_ wasting my time by talking to me.”

It was a canned line, an expression thrown around by psychiatrists and mental health experts, but I could tell that Ela meant what she said. Even if I were to call her about my problems in the dead of night, she would still hear me out and do what she could to help me.

Her kindness wasn’t an act for visitors to the school – she actually cared about everyone else that much. Just thinking about it left a comfortable warmth spreading through my chest. If nothing else, I was glad that my accident had led me to meet people like her.

Waving goodbye to Ela, I followed the pathway back to the main campus. I passed by other students heading toward the pond, some traveling with schoolwork and others going in close-knit groups. The dorms and quad were even busier with teachers and faculty making their way to and from the dining hall.

I had no clue where to find Fran. How could I track them down?

**> Text them and ask them to meet up.**

Go looking for them around the school.

Right, no need to go on a wild goose chase for them. It’d be easier to set up a time for us to meet up with some texts. Pulling up their number, I punched in some quick messages.

“Need to talk. Can we meet? I’ll be at chapel.”

A couple minutes after I had sent the texts, Fran responded in kind.

“Sure. See you in 10.”

I followed the same path as before to the chapel steps, enjoying the lush display of greenery that surrounded and cut through St. Dymph’s. I could faintly hear organ music in the distance. It grew more distinct with each step forward, just as the number of students that passed by me thinned out. There weren’t many academic buildings nearby, so most people who walked this path did it for choir practice, religious services, or just to clear their heads.

That’s what I needed most, a clear head. My chest fluttered with anxiousness and fear as I sat in front of the chapel, waiting for Fran to arrive. It wasn’t a panic attack – having become intimately familiar with how they felt – but a regular case of jitters and nervousness. Asking Fran out would be taking our friendship beyond where it stood now. I didn’t know how they would take it or…hell, whether it would work out at all.

Before long, I caught sight of Fran coming down the same path I took. It seemed that dwelling on what-ifs and second-guessing myself did wonders for passing the time.

“So, what’s all this about?” Fran asked when they reached the steps. They cheekily smiled as they said, “Thinking of saving my soul with a trip to church?”

“What? No, I just wanted to talk. Besides, I wouldn’t think your soul would need saving.”

“Then you might not know me too well!” Fran laughed. “I told you about how I lost my virginity, didn’t I?”

I vaguely remembered them mentioning it before. Something about working with a friend to get laid, then sleeping with them when it didn’t pan out? I couldn’t tell if it was jealousy swaying how I felt, but I didn’t want to know more about their previous sexual misadventures.

“You did. But, uh, getting back on topic…”

I stood up, pacing a bit in front of the chapel. It took me a bit to compose my thoughts and figure out exactly what I wanted to say. Nerves be damned – I needed to get my feelings out there.

“You’re going to the Gala, right?”

Fran nodded. “Lena asked me to cover it for the school paper. I had been planning to go with Natalya and Sofiya, but that’s off the table now.”

Damn, I would have to talk to Lena about letting them off the hook. I’m sure she wouldn’t be happy about it. If I offered to take on a few assignments for her, maybe she’d get less pissed about the request.

All right, enough stalling. Moment of truth time.

“Would you like to go with me?”

Silence was the only response I got. Fran’s face turned impassive and impossible to read.

“I just told you that I couldn’t go with anyone, darling.”

“Yeah, but – what if I talked to Lena and got her to cover for you? Wouldn’t you want to be my date to the Gala if you were free for the night?”

Fran simply laughed, though it sounded forced and lacked their usual confidence. “I would want to be _everyone’s_ date if I had the chance. People could pass me off to the next dance partner and take turns Frenching me in the bathroom stalls.”

That still didn’t answer my question. Why was Fran acting so dodgy about it? I didn’t want to pressure them, but I’d prefer a flat “yes” or “no” to these cryptic responses.

I needed to get to the bottom of this. How could I get Fran to give me a clear answer?

Play hard-to-get.

**> Continue acting straightforward.**

Flirt with them.

Mind games weren’t the right call to make. I wanted honesty from Fran, not some response gotten through manipulation.

“Please, just say ‘yes’ or ‘no.’ I really want you to be my date to the Gala. I’ll be fine if you turn me down, but I need to know how you actually feel about it.”

Fran squirmed a little in place, averting their eyes from me. Their shoulders tensed up, and their lips pressed themselves together tightly.

Shakily, they said, “If this is a joke, Erik, then I’m not laughing.”

“Wh-why would you think that?” I cried. “This isn’t a joke or a prank. I’m not making fun of you, Fran!”

There wasn’t a hint of Fran’s usual cockiness or sly attitude visible anymore. With their hands tightly clasped together and their legs crossed, they looked shockingly vulnerable compared to their usual self. It was as if my request had roused some deeply repressed fears within them.

I was worried for them, and that was putting it lightly. Why was Fran freezing up like this? What about a simple date frightened them so much? Could something I had said be triggering unwanted memories of theirs? It was a stretch, but I had nothing else to go on.

Maybe I should de-escalate things and drop the idea entirely. I didn’t want to torpedo our friendship over a date that seemed to be petrifying Fran.

“It’s okay. I don’t want you to worry about it. You’ve got enough on your plate, and I’m sure-”

The warm touch of a well-groomed fingertip pressed against my lips, cutting me off. Fran stood less than a step away from me, eyes wide with fear and uncertainty. Though their legs shook and seemed poised to dash off, they refused to budge.”

“…Then, you’re serious?” they hesitantly asked. “You actually want to take me to the Gala? Me, a mistake who can’t get their act together?”

Where had all this self-loathing come from? It sounded alien coming from someone who flaunted their talents and past conquests so casually. How well did I really know Fran if this side of them came as a complete shock?

…Well, getting to know them was one of the reasons I wanted to ask them out in the first place. Maybe they needed someone to lean on just like me. I couldn’t get rid of their self-doubts with hugs and catchy pickup lines, but I could offer some support and compliments whenever they needed them. Every little bit of positivity helped when you were in the pits.

Asking out Fran had gotten more complicated than expected, but it still felt right to me. Emboldened, I took their hands in mine and gently squeezed.

“You aren’t a mistake,” I insisted. “I don’t know how long you’ve said that about yourself, but you shouldn’t feel that way. I want you to be my date to the dance. You’re unpredictable, full of yourself, and know how to turn heads…and I wouldn’t want you any other way. Most importantly, you’re my _friend._ You’re one of the first friends I made here. I feel like I can trust you above most others around St. Dymph’s, and that’s saying a lot.”

A quick sniffle shook Fran down to their core. Before long, their dour expression morphed into a smile stretched farther than their cocky smirks. Slipping their hands out from under mine, Fran rested them on my shoulders and looked up at me, eyes glistening in the late morning sun.

“Thank you, Erik. I…I needed that. The answer’s yes – I’d love to be your date.”

Wiping their nose, they quickly regained their self-assured expression. I relaxed a little more seeing Fran act their usual way.

“We’ve only got a few days before the dance, right? When the time comes, we’re gonna blow all those parents and couples out of their shoes. Let’s make the Gala our bitch!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Erik getting into running isn't mentioned anywhere (that I know of) in Missing Stars. I just thought that it would be a good outlet for him with climbing being a no-go. Emi's route in Katawa Shoujo probably influenced that decision on my part, too.
> 
> Some additional characters are included in the picnic choice compared to the VN. Sofiya was once a romance option, but her route was scrapped before the demo came out. I don't know if Irene and Ela were ever considered for their own routes. Fran definitely didn't have a route planned, though wishful thinking on my part made me think that it was under wraps at Somnova for a while.
> 
> Up next: Erik hashes out a deal with Lena and gets down to work on Gala preparations!


	4. Youthful Spirits

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Erik crosses paths with a few familiar faces in the lead-up to the Gala.

The morning sun had just begun to rise over St. Dymph’s, but I was already awake and hard at work. Another bout of insomnia had left me restless, and when I couldn’t find anybody that I had recognized wandering the campus, I had decided to make the best of it.

After having traded my uniform for a short-sleeve shirt and athletic shorts, I had started to run around the school grounds. My trip took me through its wooded trails and all the way to its gates. I had kept at it until the crack of dawn, only stopping to catch my breath or drink some water.

By the time I stopped, my heart pounded from exertion and sweat soaked my clothes. The pure bliss from a hard workout came at the cost of my legs being ready to give out from under me. Suffice to say, I understood why runners chased this high every day.

My limbs were like soggy noodles as I dragged myself back inside my dorm. I could barely scrape enough willpower together to discard my sweaty outfit and slump into the shower.

Hot water cascaded down my back, getting a long moan out of me. It had been too long since I had unwound with a steamy shower after a hard workout. The last time I had done that was when I still used to…when my biggest hobby was…

…Best not to think about it too much.

I took my time scrubbing myself down, letting my aching muscles soak in the warmth. It was still early, so there wouldn’t be many people lining up to use the dorm showers. Besides, with four of them on my floor alone, there were plenty of alternatives for people that wanted to wash up at the crack of dawn.

The water flowed until my fingers were wrinkled and steam hovered over me like an aura. Thoroughly satisfied, I shut down the water and dried myself off, tying a towel around my waist in case I ran into anyone on the way back to my room. Grabbing my plastic shower caddy, I threw open the shower curtain – and found myself face-to-face with a tall, blonde girl with a metal mask over her mouth.

“L- _Lena?_ ” I cried. “What are you-”

“-Volunteering for poster duty,” the tan German casually explained, as if her visiting the boy’s restroom in the early morning was nothing unusual. “Ms. Wieck asked me to tape these up,” she waved a stack of eight-by-eleven papers, “and I didn’t see a reason not to.”

Lena had already posted one on the bathroom walls. It was a simple white notice that read, “Shower drains are for hygienic and cleaning products ONLY! Do not dump trash or other fluids into them!”

“Apparently, you horndogs can’t keep it in your pants,” she gruffly explained. “Too many guys beating off in the showers means the school has to keep unclogging the drains. The people up top hope this will get the message across.”

“I, uh…I see.”

Leaning closer toward me, Lena inquisitively glanced at the shower caddy in my hand and the towel around my torso. “Dare I ask why you were showering up this early?”

Oh Christ, was she accusing me of…who was I kidding, it was _Lena_. Of course she’d suggest I was choking my chicken in there. She never pulled her punches.

“I went for a run,” I said as straight-faced as possible. “I couldn’t sleep, so I ran around the school and needed a shower afterward. Wasn’t breaking any fluid-related rules.”

Without warning, she placed a hand on my chest, running it down the shallow divide between my pectorals and the subtle ridges on my stomach. I nearly squealed from the ticklishness when she pulled it back over a long scar above my navel.

She pursed her lips beneath the mask. “I can tell. It suits you.”

“…Thanks? I guess?”

If it were anyone else doing it, I would’ve thought they were hitting on me…but, again, this was Lena I was dealing with. She didn’t care much about niceties or social norms. At least she had the courtesy not to ask about the jagged scars on my back and front.

I thought back to that night I had stumbled across Lena bare-naked in the woods near St. Dymph’s. She had been as indifferent to my presence as she was now, casually sizing me up while I had nothing more than a towel on. To her, doing yoga in the nude at midnight must not have been any more abnormal than researching a story for the school paper.

Getting used to everyone’s quirks was still a work-in-progress for me. For what it was worth, I was trying my damnedest to put myself in other people’s shoes. It was just easier to do it for someone “normal” like Ela or Katja.

An awkward silence hung over the two of us, though Lena didn’t seem too perturbed by it. I didn’t have the faintest idea what to else say about that bizarre moment between us. Lena had a way of dominating the conversation and dropping it whenever it stopped suiting her. What should I do next?

**> Bring up the Gala and ask for a favor.**

Leave the restroom and get dressed.

While Lena was in the same room as me, I figured that it couldn’t hurt to mention Fran’s duties on Gala night and whether she could take them on. After all, the worst thing she could say was “no!”

Actually, scratch that. The worst she could say was “fuck no” or “get out of my face.” Still, we were all members of the Newspaper Club. That had to count for something, right? Maybe I could use that camaraderie to convince her to help us.

“I know you’re not gonna like this, but I need a favor from you.”

Lena snorted loudly through her mask. “With an opener like that, I bet I’ll love whatever’s coming next.”

“Could you cover for Fran on Gala night? I wanted to bring them as my date, but they’re supposed to write a story on it for the paper. I was hoping you could take over.”

Within moments of me asking, Lena brought her hand against her forehead. She growled in frustration, massaging the space between her eyebrows with her fingers. A cold grimace flashed behind her mask.

“And why would I do that? Fran _volunteered_ to report on the Gala. I made plans thinking I would have a free night for a change.”

Alright, so my request made her a _little_ angry with me. I was sure I could smooth things out between us.

Guilt her into helping a friend in need.

Ask her again, only with more puppy-eyed stares and begging.

**> Offer to take on some of her future workload for the newspaper.**

Lena would just shrug off my appeals to emotion. Cutting a deal with her could help us reach a compromise, especially if it favored her in the long run.

“If you cover for Fran on Gala night, I’ll have three stories for the paper on your desk by next week.”

That frustrated grimace eased back just a hair. Alright, I was making progress. This apparently wasn’t an issue that she wouldn’t budge on.

“Five stories,” Lena insisted. “And one of them has to be that interview with Katja. You know, the one you originally fucked up for us. Get her talking this time.”

Ouch. No punches pulled once more. If I was gonna get Fran off the hook, some sacrifices would need to be made – in this case, it’d be my free time for the next week or so.

“Fine, but only if I get to handle the interview by myself. I’ll do what I have to and write up those articles, and you’ll take over for Fran on Gala night. Do we have a deal?”

“Yeah, we do.” With a grunt, Lena shuffled her papers and posted another one on the opposite end of the restroom. “Don’t you dare think of backing out. I’m going out on a limb for you two.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

It was the truth. I wasn’t enthusiastic about taking on five newspaper articles within the same week, but I had been the one to make the offer to Lena. Besides, I hadn’t contributed much to the paper since I had joined it. Lena would be inconveniencing herself for our sakes, so it was only fair that I go above and beyond to repay her.

Still, _five articles in one week_. I’d need to hit the ground running with them, see what kind of scoops I could dig up from Ela or Irene. The latter of the two always had an “interesting” story or theory to share.

Without another word, Lena marched out of the bathroom, probably looking for more places to place those notices at. Now alone, I finished drying myself off and took a step back toward my room, my legs wobbling from that slight exertion. I must have overdone it in this morning’s workout, because my lower body felt as stable as cooked spaghetti.

Grateful that I didn’t have an audience, considering that I was uncoordinated and half-naked, I limped my way back into my dorm room. The clock read 6:45 AM, meaning that I still had a couple hours before my first class began.

Some problems were meant to be slept on, and sore limbs were definitely among them. I fell back on my bed and let my exhaustion overtake me. It didn’t take long for me to drift off into unconsciousness.

Classes came and went in a blur that day, leaving me with a free afternoon. I didn’t have much planned until got a text from Ela inviting me to help with Gala preparations. Grabbing Fran before they could head back to their apartment, I stepped into Ela’s occupied classroom with my Gala date in tow.

…Huh. It felt strange to think of Fran that way. Guess I was still wrapping my head around our arrangement.

“You made it!” Ela exclaimed. “And you brought even more help with you!”

Further behind her sat Jeanne and Isolda, both working together on decorative banners. There were all sorts of arts and crafts supplies scattered around the empty classroom. Jeanne was coloring wide areas with markers, while Isolda carefully etched out a detailed drawing of a bird beside several similar sketches. Jeanne widely smiled and waved at us. Isolda shot me a quick but warm glance of acknowledgement before returning to her birds.

“Not surprised that you got more people involved,” I mused.

With a wink, she said back, “More hands on the job means the work gets done sooner! It never hurts to bring more heads together for a project!”

Fran barely contained a burst of explosive laughter behind their hand. Their suppressed giggles quickly drew the ire of our resident taskmaster.

“What’s so funny, Fran?”

“N-nothing,” they said amid a weakening flurry of chuckles. “You just have a way with words. The stuff valedictorians are made of.”

Ela pouted and gave them a disappointed look, but otherwise didn’t press the issue further. “Well, I hope you two came ready to do your parts. There’s plenty to of work to go around.”

As we quickly learned, Ela wasn’t exaggerating. There were banners to design, decorations to build and hang up, event programs to assemble and print, and much more. What I had expected to be an hour-long coloring session turned into a lengthy trial. We all juggled responsibilities back and forth between the most qualified person around, passing off work whenever it left our individual areas of expertise.

Jeanne and I spoke plenty during that time, chatting about my progress with studying and Gala plans. Isolda offered a few inquisitive remarks here and there, but she was otherwise absorbed in creating artwork. Neither of the pair had much to say to Fran – not out of any resentment, but because they didn’t seem to know each other outside of their shared classes. Thankfully, Ela and I managed to bridge both groups of friends whenever things got awkward.

By the time Ela had suggested that we call it a day, the sun had begun setting over the school grounds. Jeanne invited Fran and me to join the rest of her friends for dinner, but Fran declined the offer. Sensing an opportunity to share the morning’s news with them, I did the same and followed Fran out into the hallway.

“I got you off the hook,” I explained to them. “Lena agreed to take on your Gala assignment.”

Fran’s eyes widened slightly. “Color me surprised! What’d you have to do to make that happen?”

“I, uh, took on some more stories for the paper. Five, to be exact, and one has to be the interview with Katja.”

They winced sympathetically at me, saying, “You poor bastard…let’s hope that Katja will go easier on you than Lena did.”

Katja acting rougher than Lena? The whole idea sounded ridiculous. Katja was so prim and proper that she probably transformed bathwater into strawberry-scented mineral water whenever she set one foot in it. I’d seen her get frustrated before, but I couldn’t imagine her getting as furious as Lena sometimes did.

“I think I’ll be okay.”

Stepping in front of me, Fran placed both hands on my shoulders. Their usual smirk was twisted into something more concerned and vulnerable. “You might be right, but…just be careful what kinda impression you give off to her, okay? Not everyone around here will give you the benefit of the doubt, especially if they’ve been hurt before.”

Strange advice coming from someone with a “no-shits-given” attitude like Fran…then again, I had learned more than once that there was more to the students here under the surface. Some people just hid their true feelings better than others.

Slipping my palms under theirs, I looped our fingers together and gently eased our hands between us. My face warmed slightly at the close contact, as did Fran’s.

“Then I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks for the warning.”

After seeing Fran off and returning to my dorm, I lounged back in my bed. My thoughts idly drifted between the Gala and my recent time spent with them. The night was quickly approaching, and I wanted to make sure that I made a good impression. I would need to pick out something more formal for the occasion. Fran might have decent advice to give on outfits, but I was more used to Beatrice and Hilde providing feedback on clothing choices-

-I immediately lurched out of my comfortable position. _Beatrice. Hilde._ I was supposed to invite them to the Gala as well. It wasn’t just a big event for students – families of students, donors, and administrative staff also showed up for it. They would absolutely want to visit for the occasion…just in time to discover my sorta-unclear relationship with Fran. There was no way I could have both parties at the Gala without them crossing paths.

I would have a lot of explaining to do for my sisters’ sake. I just prayed that they would be understanding about the situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> E: Isolda, why are you drawing birds on the Gala banners?  
> I: Why aren't you drawing birds?  
> E: But, what does that have to do with anything-  
> F: -No, she's got a point.
> 
> Up next: Erik and Fran spend some quality time together figuring things out for the Gala!


End file.
